


where longing stops

by poiregourmande



Series: Kelgene, Power Couple Extraordinaire [1]
Category: Buzzfeed (Fandom), Buzzfeed The Try Guys (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, drunken decisions, would you expect anything less from these two?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 08:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16059443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poiregourmande/pseuds/poiregourmande
Summary: Solitude and longing and all these fancy-ass words Kelsey’s brain only supplies when she’s two glasses of red in.





	where longing stops

Solitude and longing and all these fancy-ass words Kelsey’s brain only supplies when she’s two glasses of red in.  
  
Mindlessly tapping through Instagram Stories. You’d think being a single girl in Vegas would be more exciting. But she’s only here on business for a few days so she knows no one here.  
  
One Story catches her attention. Fancy dinner – better than the McDonald’s leftovers she brought up to her room – tagged at the restaurant of the very hotel she’s currently sitting bareass in.  
  
She glances up to see who it is – maybe she doesn’t have to spend the night alone in her room.  
  
Eugene!  
  
Oh my god, they haven’t seen each other since he left the office – because adult life sucks major balls and they’re always busy.  
  
She shoots him a quick text. _Omg there’s no way you’re actually here rn pls tell me you’re free tonight_  
  
Two excruciating minutes – Eugene never answers instantly, she saw it happen several times, he makes people wait on purpose because he knows they will. Big dick energy right there, to be honest.  
  
_Gimme half an hour and I’m all yours_ , he answers.  
  
She scrambles off the bed to get ready. She’s worked with Eugene long enough to know that when he says half an hour, he means 30 minutes, nothing more, nothing less.  
  
Thirty minutes to scrub the crusty make-up off her face, re-do it, get dressed, and convince herself that her hair looks artfully tousled and not like the product of a too-long wine nap and French fry grease.  
  
Thirty-three minutes later she’s in the elevator, and, okay, close enough. Best case scenario, he’ll be too happy to see her to be irritated by her lateness. Worst case scenario, she’ll buy him a drink to make it up to him.  
  
Best case wins, and Eugene pulls her into a too-rare hug.  
  
“Girl it’s been so long! What are you doing here?”  
  
They exchange small talk about their current projects, their feet mindlessly guiding them towards the hotel bar – that’s where the booze is, after all.  
  
Only once they’re seated in a corner booth with drinks does the mood shifts. The conversation runs out and they realize it’s just the two of them. They’ve never really been alone together – they’re always in the middle of the party, surrounded by friends and acquaintances.  
  
This? The two of them, lazily sipping on drinks instead of knocking back shots and trying to out-dance each other?  
  
Feels datey af.  
  
Kelsey half expects Eugene to slide an arm along the back of her seat and serve her a sleazy line, like boys always do. Instead, he nods towards a girl at the bar. Good boobs, short hair, croptop, probably queer.  
  
“Ten bucks I get you her number,” he says.  
  
“Fifteen I get you _his_ ,” she answers, jerking her head at a dude who kinda looks like a fashionable, bearded version of Keith.  
  
They clink their drinks together to seal the deal, but stay in their seats. Conversation picks right up, and they’re both too lazy to get up and try to win the bet.  
  
Cocktails morph into beers morph into shots and Eugene’s lap seems as good a place to sit as any. He wraps his arms around her, rests a hand on her hip and the other on her thigh and she sighs.  
  
“That’s the most action I’ve had in two months,” she slurs, patting his hand – or maybe she’s just making sure it stays there.  
  
Eugene chuckles, low in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.  
  
“Yeah, me too.”  
  
“Fuck off,” Kelsey says, maybe a bit too loud. “You’re _Eugene_ , everyone wants to tap that!”  
  
“Hm, perhaps. But maybe I want more than just being tapped.” Eugene’s eyes are glassy and he’s one shot away from being Emotional Eugene.  
  
That shot is on the table and he downs it.  
  
“Maybe I want someone who stays for breakfast. Kels, I’m just so lonely.”  
  
“God, tell me about it.”  
  
There’s something in Eugene’s eye that’s soft and vulnerable and Kelsey can’t help opening up.  
  
“I miss you, like, constantly,” she says.  
  
“Oh, same. You don’t know how often I just wanna drop everything and call you. Why must we always be busy with work, and life, and being adults?”  
  
“Fuck all of that!” Kelsey exclaims, draining the last shot.  
  
She turns to him, lips burning with liquor and _something else_ , and his hands tighten on her hip.  
  
“Oh, hey,” he says.  
  
“Why haven’t we ever hooked up?” she blurts out, because in his soft, hazy eyes she can’t find a reason not to.  
  
It happens in the bar bathroom, even though _I literally have a bed upstairs, Kels_ , because there’s no time to waste, no time for awkward elevator rides, no time for turning back.  
  
It happens and it’s everything Kelsey would have imagined if she’d imagined it (she hasn’t). It’s frantic and messy and tequila-fuzzy and just fucking hot.  
  
Morning – or, like, 3PM – finds Kelsey sprawled sideways across a king bed and her brain sprawled sideways inside her head.  
  
She blinks against the sun’s insistent aggression and groggily sits up. The bed is empty. The suitcases piled up next to it are not her own. She’s butt naked under the sheets. Her tongue tastes like Chipotle met sewers and had a baby inside her mouth. There’s a cheap-ass diamond ring on her left ring finger.  
  
_There’s a cheap-ass diamond ring on her left ring finger._  
  
What the fuck happened last night?  
  
And whose room is this?  
  
“Yeah, I know,” Eugene says, coming out of the bathroom.  
  
It all comes rushing back.  
  
“Ah, fuck me,” Kelsey groans, falling back to the bed and pulling all the pillows on top of her head.  
  
“Again?” She can hear the smirk in his voice.  
  
She hates that it makes her heart beat faster.  
  
She throws a pillow at him, and a soft thuds tells her she missed – unsurprising since she didn’t bother resurfacing to aim.  
  
“So I googled some stuff and texted my friend Jay who’s a lawyer...”  
  
“You did _what_?” Kelsey sits bolt upright, hugging a pillow to her bare chest – oh fuck, her head is gonna explode.  
  
“I kept it all hypothetical –“  
  
“Sure, _hey how does one take back a Vegas wedding, hypothetically?_ nobody normal asks that on a Saturday morning!”  
  
“Afternoon.”  
  
“Blow me.”  
  
“Been there done that. Anyway, here’s the info.” Eugene hands her his phone.  
  
Words dance before her eyes, words like _annulment_ and _attorney services_ and 3-digits cost numbers, and she wants to throw up. This is too much adulting for this level of hangover.  
  
She tosses the phone back to Eugene. “Or we could just make it work.”  
  
“How about you drink water and go back to sleep and we talk about this when you’re sane?”  
  
“No, I’m serious. I’m not about to be known as _The Girl Who Divorced Eugene_ _Lee Yang_. Think about it. We’d be so good together.”  
  
It’s a testament to how good a friendship they have that Eugene does think about it.  
  
“You can’t be serious,” he says, after maybe two minutes of silence.  
  
Time for Kelsey’s secret weapon. “I’d stay for breakfast.”  
  
Eugene sits on the bed, rakes a hand through his hair. Looks almost defeated. He squeezes her foot through the blanket but still looks away.  
  
“I’d want an open marriage.”  
  
“Oh, _for sure_ , are you kidding me?”  
  
Kelsey sits up. The bedsheet slides down and Eugene chooses that moment to finally look at her. She scrambles to hide behind a pillow but he grins.  
  
“It’s nothing I haven’t already seen, dear wifey.”  
  
“I think that’s the straightest thing you’ve ever said, _hubby_.”  
  
Eugene shudders. “Ugh yeah it actually _feels_ wrong.”  
  
Eugene drops his bathrobe and slides under the sheets next to her.  
  
“So, we’re doing this?” she asks.  
  
“We’re doing this.”  
  
“You better buy me a nicer ring, then.”


End file.
